Citizens killed time any way they could in the bunkers. Many children joined an Automodachi race. Others cried, wanting the summertime to proceed. Parents kneeled to tell them it would come back eventually.

The outside showed no such hope. Thunder roaring, the flood would have given the city a murkier Atlantis Day. Brigade mages opened storm drains the size of trucks. At least it had been a century since the last divine judgment.

The higher levels had no such despair. Every drop trickled downhill, yet the cemetery had the darkest clouds. Hokori felt no ounce of anguish despite the murder before him. If anything, it was cold fury with eyes glare.

Hayato cocked his head and had open arms. “Good day, brother! Or at least that’s what this poor soul right by me used to say.” He took his foot off the gravestone.

He cocked again, brow raised. “Curious, curious. Your heart had not matched a rabbit’s. Are you angry for sure?”

Hokori walked closer with an unmoved face. He cracked his knuckles. “Only cuz of you, dipshit. I ain’t here for a sob.”

Mouth closed, he chuckled softly. “My, my, child. Here I thought my new self found you a caring family. Tell me, who is she to you?” He kicked Tokino’s body in front. Her eyes grayed with her open mouth.

Surprisingly, he sighed and gave no sign of being unnerved. “A sister. What more? She did stupid, but younger siblings outta learn a lesson or two.” He cracked his neck. “Still, ya ain’t goin’ nowhere. Time for justice.”

Hayato grinned wider by the second, eyes wide. He uprooted several trees to float midair. Each had sharpened into massive stakes. He chuckled again. “Funny you say that. You of all people know my return means more—”

The shock returned to haunt his soul. He knew the process was incomplete yet thought the boy had died long ago. He convulsed on his back, frothing. Then, it was lights out.

Hokori had veins on fingers toward Tokino’s missing cavity. Seconds in, she looked brand new. Her skin returned to color, but she remained asleep. Still, raindrops from the tree above were clear.

He slowly nestled Hayato in his arms. The latter woke up from a little ‘rain’ on his face. He did see a smile as the clouds faded. Sunshine had never looked so golden during dusk. Yet his eyes sulked, vividly knowing every bloody deed.

Hokori sniffled and made him sit. “Hey, man. Ready to die?”

No one else would say that straight in the eye for a nine-year-old. But not a tear rolled down Hayato’s cheek. Instead, he smiled back lightly and nodded. “Uh-hmm. I wouldn’t trade it for your safety. For everyone.”

He did not expect a lecture on empathy from his nephew’s school. In fact, he never knew they learned about the Original Guillotine. His smile showed more teeth, laughing together. He held his shoulder. “Well, at least ya know it’s painless. Better get dressed for tomorrow’s court, man. I’ll help ya out.”

Hayato nodded again and went downhill first. He still smiled, taking fate for a stroll. For a moment, his eyes and lips relaxed upon memories. He sighed for the good times but still walked.

Hokori pulled out an emergency flying carpet for Tokino. Even with her dreaming, he waved as it soared back home. He still sat on the grass, looking at the gravestone. Fists under his chin, he sighed as well. He stood and stretched. “Hold up, man,” he made Hayato stop in his tracks. “If we win, would you bawl a river?”

Hayato had more recollections—now of his sister. Three years older, yet always shed more sorrow. Maybe he could, too, as he heard birds singing. However, he turned with another smile. “Sorry, Uncle,” he walked back uphill. “I don’t think that’s possible under Article 654. Not even the Heracles Act can save me.”

Arms crossed, Hokori sighed again. “I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout the trial.” His eyes turned to their home on the horizon. “They’d walk to hell and back for ya. I would, too. But again, you and I know better. I ain’t denyin’.

“I’m givin’ ya an idea instead. Would ya choose us in a heartbeat? That’d be the wrong answer. The world ain’t gon’ stay quiet.” He kneeled and warmed his hug as much as he could. Moon and stars above, yet the sun remained.

“Here’s the idea: I’m sorry. You haven’t even crossed your first ocean, let alone touched the cosmos. None can save you now, sure. But they’ll try, and I could guide you once more.

“If you see them running for you, let them. Maybe then, our bonds won’t break again. Forever till the end….”

Shooting stars had flashed 5/s—not since a millennium. Now out of the bunkers, citizens regained their joy. To think the canceled holiday meant nothing to them. It was a night to remember, fireworks flying.

At the cemetery, joy became bitter. Hayato wasted no time yelling his true wishes. Every killer he knew was those he loved. Yet the world had all eyes on him. “It doesn’t make sense!” he hugged tighter. “Nothing does anymore. I must go, but my heart says stay! I can’t help it!”

Hokori rubbed his back, hearing the bawls louder. He wished, too, that he heard none of the citizens’ faraway cheers.

The sky turned golden the following day. Sadly, last night’s dinner was less than desirable. Yukino refused to eat any financier, not even slowly. She had not even gone downstairs to see Hayato dressed.

Tokino straightened his tie. “Remember, honey. Don’t walk away from the stand. We’ll have lunch soon after.” The whole time, she averted her brother’s presence. Eyes would not even meet.

The other siblings had him rehearse his lines. Yes or no would mostly be fine enough. Though, he needed more practice with some trickier lingo. Kenkō held his shoulders. “Relax. Just say, ‘I’m always under oath, your honor. I see no point any other way.’”

As Hayato memorized the phrase, his father sulked. He would not dare inch more than one meter. Tokino sighed and pushed him softly from behind. “Come on. He’s your son.”

Haruto stood for an awkward minute. Hayato cocked his head at him, so he cleared his throat. “You know, um. Even if we lose, you won’t go to jail. Due to your status, our majesty might pardon you.”

He nodded on the couch. “I know. I don’t see why not.” He tried his best to keep a smile.

Hokori looked at his nephew from afar. By the main door, he announced for some fresh air. It did not sit well with Kakunō, so he got off. Doubts had whirled around his head.

He walked toward the center. “I’m not sure, guys.” He opened his screen. “There are chances we’d win. But something doesn’t add up. Right here, it says—”

Tokino closed his screen immediately. “Please, brother. Don’t fret. Any chance can come true.”

He sighed and doubled down on his qualms. None should talk about the odds at that point; any more, and misfortune would follow. “Listen, Sis. You can pray all day, but I suggest not taking any chances. It’s corrosive.”

The government website shown had no mention of cases like her son’s. Then, memories of wartime prisoners swirled. It did not take long for her eyes to narrow. Her fists shook below, seething.

She walked with heavy steps and yanked his shirt. “What do you imply, brother!” She panted. “Speak again, and I don’t know what I’ll do.” Her breath worsened every second.

Hayato backed away from his seat. Kakunō grunted with clenched teeth, pushing her. “Try it! Do something to me right now. See if it helps our problem!” He shoved her again.

Haruto restrained his wife in front. Kenkō did the same for the other member, and they could feel their heavy mana. Such a spike in strength had even cracked the floorboards. They held off the magic with their own.

Yukino had her arms wrapped around the knees in bed. She heard the commotion downstairs and ran. Drying tears along the way, she wanted none of it below.

She cast an array on the floor between them. Within milliseconds, the shockwave flung them on their backs. She breathed heavily. “Stop! Just stop, all of you!”

Her family got back up with eyes widened. She had nestled a broken bird other than her. “Please stop…” she said faintly, holding Hayato close. “I’m a Big Sis now.”

They all sat down in deep shame. Kakunō refused to look at his saddened face. Tokino rested on her husband’s shoulder and sighed. “What happened to us, honey? I thought we were complete.” She held his hand.

He stared blankly at the ceiling. “No idea. But that’s life. Nothing we can do.”

Hokori went inside. For the first time, the king’s private limo awaited them. “Ya ain’t gon’ do nothin’ if your ass ain’t movin’, boy. Let’s go!” Everyone followed suit in a flash.

They saw protesters clashing along the way. Those on Amy’s side threw assorted trash at the car. Yet most had flown at the driver’s window.

Harald sighed. “It’s not easy being self-made royalty, folks. Though, I’d rather stay humble.” He pulled the breaks, now outside the Vulgus Chamber.

As he led the family, the mentioned activist stood. She held off her right aimed at his cheek. “For all the pardons you gave, I hope you do the same for him.” She wished Hayato good luck.

As always, the supreme court had an oppressive air. Hayato swallowed his fear, looking above. The pantheon mural told a fresh new story. Even Mikazukihanō’s deities fought in arms against a blood-bending heretic. “Fallen Grace of Takarttal,” it said on a scroll with angels (தகர்த்தல்).

Like his mother before, wolves loomed around him. The jury had itchy thumbs at the ready. Settling his fate omitted any restroom breaks. Then, they applauded by the door.

Grausames had once again walked as the most prolific prosecutor. He raised a hand to stop the praise and slicked his crown back. However, all were quick to realize his new face. They even spotted a hint of regret.

He inhaled deep. “My humble brothers and sisters. Forgive me, for I’ve never called you as such. Long ago, I won my fastest case at five minutes. And it was against a lackey of the most heinous rogue mage.

He pointed at Hayato. “This boy is but Ted Manson’s rebirth. So I wish nothing awful for him.” He sat down. “Your honor, I know we haven’t begun. But as a father of two, I demand many more trials. Never mind my crusade against the new law. That can wait.”

The jury had brows raised to their peak. Their eyes turned to each other back and forth. None ever imagined their hero to ‘stoop so low.’ One stood up and concurred. “Make it make sense, Grausames! I’ve donated to your cause more than enough!”

Another nodded. “Half-change is still heresy! Do you seek to change your words!?”, “Enough of this nonsense. He has rebelled!”, “Blasphemy!”, “Blasphemy!”, “Blasphemy!”, “Blasphemy!”

The outrage grew, but the prosecutor heard nothing. He looked at the defense, expecting shock and a witty remark. His family cheered quietly, so it was a given. Instead, he saw unmoved eyes.